‘Is he in character?’

‘Getting there. He’s going to be working double shifts. That way he makes more trips to the shop, some in the evening when the place is quieter. More chance to get to know Ken and Dec. We’ve no contact with him during the day. Debriefing takes place once he’s reached home. Telephone only, can’t risk too many meetings.’

‘You think they’ll watch him?’

‘If they’re being thorough. And if they fall for the plan.’

‘Did you talk to Marty Jones?’

‘That’s set for tomorrow. He’ll bring a couple of heavies, but they’ll go easy on Jack.’

‘Isn’t tomorrow a bit soon?’

‘Can we afford to wait? They might already have someone in mind.’

‘We’re asking a lot of him.’

‘He was your idea.’

‘I know.’

‘You don’t think he’s up to it?’

‘It’s not that ... but he’s stepping into a war.’

‘Then get the ceasefire sorted out.’

‘It is.’

‘That’s not what I hear ...’

Rebus heard it too, as soon as he got off the phone. He knocked on the Chief Super’s door. The Farmer was in conference with Gill Templer.

‘Did you talk to him?’ the Farmer asked.

‘He agreed to a ceasefire,’ Rebus said. He was looking at Templer. ‘What about you?’

She took a deep breath. ‘I spoke to Mr Telford - his solicitor was present throughout. I kept telling him what we wanted, and the lawyer kept telling me I was blackening his client’s name.’

‘And Telford?’

‘Just sat there, arms folded, smiling at the wall.’

Colour was creeping up her face. ‘I don’t think he looked at me once.’

‘But you gave him the message?’

‘Yes.’

‘You said Cafferty would comply?’

She nodded.

‘Then what the hell’s happening?’

‘We can’t let it get out of control,’ the Farmer said.

‘Looks to me like it already is.’

The latest score-line: two of Cafferty’s men, their faces mashed to something resembling fruit-pulp.

‘Lucky they’re not dead,’ the Farmer went on.

‘You know what’s happening?’

Rebus said. ‘It’s Tarawicz, he’s the problem. Tommy’s playing up to him.’

‘It’s times like this you yearn for independence,’ the Farmer agreed. ‘Then we could just extradite the bugger.’

‘Why don’t we?’

Rebus suggested. ‘Tell him his presence here is no longer acceptable.’

‘And if he stays?’

‘We shadow him, make sure everyone knows we’re doing it. We make nuisances of ourselves.’

‘You think that would work?’

Gill Templer sounded sceptical. ‘Probably not,’ Rebus agreed, slumping into a chair.

‘We’ve no real leverage,’ the Farmer said, glancing at his watch. ‘Which isn’t going to please the Chief Constable. He wants me in his office in half an hour.’

He got on the phone, ordered a car, rose to his feet.

‘Look, see if you can thrash something out between you.’

Rebus and Templer exchanged a look.

‘I’ll be back in an hour or two.’

The Farmer looked around, as if he were suddenly lost. ‘Lock the door when you leave.’

With that and a wave of his hand, he left. There was silence in the room.